


Another one bites the dust

by walking_contradiction42



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Crack, Crowley does too, Crowley is Freddie Mercury, Crowley is a kanelbullar, Fluff, I DIDN'T Write This Instead of Sleeping, M/M, The Bentley Ships It (Good Omens), The Bentley likes Queen, Why is this a tag???, i did way too much research on this, it's complicated - Freeform, why is this not a tag?, wibbly wobbly timey wimey stuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-07
Updated: 2020-11-07
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:22:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27434995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/walking_contradiction42/pseuds/walking_contradiction42
Summary: Everyone knows the tapes in Crowley’s Bentley turn into a Best of Queen after the right amount of time.But what did they turn into before Queen was even formed?The answer is more complicated than one might think.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 21





	Another one bites the dust

**Author's Note:**

> So yeah I was recently wondering about the CDs (or tapes, if you go with the book) in Crowley’s Bentley and how they all turn into Queen after a while. Then this happened.
> 
> Problem is: I don’t really know anything about Queen, so first I had to read a whole Wikipedia article about them. Also I don’t remember the movie either, so I had to read the article about that too.
> 
> Then there was the problem with the CD, which was first used in the 1980s, and the tape, which was developed in 1963. The Bentley was build some when in the 1920s, so Crowley would have to listen to his music on record. History is a mess. Just don’t think about it too much.
> 
> Shout at me in the comments.

On rare occasions Aziraphale and Crowley would have movie nights. This was actually harder than it might sound. Mostly because Aziraphale wouldn’t watch movies where people were killed and Crowley wouldn’t watch movies where people weren’t killed. Also none of them would want to watch historical movies, since actually being there made the superficial movie experience quite redundant. Also Crowley would not watch romantic movies. He would rather bath in the holiest water of them all than admit that he actually enjoyed them from time to time. Of course Aziraphale knew.

So most of the time, they would simply avoid the whole movie thing. But not today. Today Aziraphale had invited Crowley over. He was delighted, because he gotten his hands on one of the first copies of “Bohemian rhapsody”. He smiled as he held out the DVD case to Crowley.

“I thought you might want to see it” he said. “You know, as you seem to always listen to their music in your car.”

He was surprised to find Crowley looking, not grateful, but rather sad at his suggestion.

“And why would I want to watch that?” Crowley snarled.

Aziraphale began to nervously fiddle with the DVD case. He was worried about Crowley’s sudden chance in mood. Not that he wasn’t used to it, quite the opposite actually, but he thought Crowley would be… happier about his little surprise

“Oh well, I assumed you were quite the… how do you say it… fan of the group?” he explained.

Of course Aziraphale could not know that Crowley in fact wasn’t really a fan of Queen. Not that he did not like their music. After all he had been listening to it for years now. The problem was, that Aziraphale’s suggestion had brought up memories he would rather have forgotten.

Crowley could still remember the day he had first listened to Queen. It had been the day after he brought the Bentley. He had been speeding around town in it all day and enjoying himself, proud of this beautiful addition to his life. Now he was heading back home, his tape of Sinatra classics playing over the soothing sounds of the engine.

Then suddenly the music stopped. Crowley hissed at the player, but it stayed silent. He tried to hit it to get it back playing, but only managed to pull his car into the approaching traffic. He wheeled the car back around and cursed.

Then suddenly the music started again as if nothing happened. But it wasn’t Sinatra. This was something new. Something Crowley had never heard before.

If it had been a few year later Crowley would have recognised the now playing bass riff as the introduction to one of Queen’s most successful singles _Another one bites the dust_. But this day was way before 1970, so Queen had not yet been formed. Some of the member had not even been born.

Crowley stared at his player in bewilderment. What the hell had happened to his tape? And why was this riff so damn catchy? He listened to the whole tape. He even stayed inside the car, although he had already reached his destination. The rain poured down on the roof and it started to get cold, but he could not stop listening. This was really good. This had potential. But where did it come from?

He looked at the cover of the tape and instead of Frank Sinatra he was faced with four people he had never seen before. One of them had really weird hair and the other one had a moustache like the one Crowley would wear of few decades later. Of course he did not know that yet. The red letters on top of the cover formed the words _Queen: Greatest hits_. 

Crowley wondered since when the Queen played in a band and when she had turned into a man. Also why was her music that good?

Crowley’s situation was similar to that of a time traveller, who tries to tell a joke about the Second World War, before it actually happened. It simply wasn’t the time yet. To put it in the words of Marty McFly “I guess you guys aren’t ready for that yet. But your kinds are gonna love it”. Although of course you should not make jokes about stuff as serious as the Second World War.

So Crowley could not enjoy the amazing joke heaven had blessed him with yet, but he could very much enjoy the music. He spent days just listening to the guitar riffs and harmonies and he embraced them.

Also he started doing research. About this band that seemingly no one had heard about. Nobody had heard about a guy who was named after Crowley’s favourite planet (the temperature reminded him a lot of the hell fires just without all the other annoying people). Nobody had heard of the masterpiece that was Bohemian rhapsody. And no one had heard of guys with hair that looked more like nest than an actual haircut.

So after years and years Crowley decided to take matter into his own hands. He could not bear the thought of a world without Queen. So he got the music published.

Of course this was a lot more complicated than he had anticipated. Nobody wanted to buy a best of album of a band they had never heard about and that hadn’t even released a single album before. So it was Crowley’s luck that in 1970 during his time at the Ealing College of Art he met a semi successful band with the semi appealing name _Smile_. They were missing a singer so Crowley took his chance and perused them into reforming under the name Queen.

They started off a bit shaky, since Crowley wasn’t actually able to write music on his own. And they would need more than those few songs on his tape for their albums. But after threatening and tempting various people into writing for him, they set off with their first album.

And suddenly Crowley found himself in a very unpleasant situation. He was famous. He didn’t intend to of course. He just wanted to share this amazing music with the world and he just wanted to hold this best of album in his hands for the very first time. Well technically not the first time, but the first time it actually really existed.

He was okay with the weird clothes. Actually he kind of liked the clothes. No really, he loved the clothes. But he could not wrap his head around the hair. Why would anyone want to have something on their head that was bigger than the actual head itself? But there was no arguing with the fashion standards. He could not escape. He did not think this trough.

It was a stormy night, when he first realised how caught up he had been in his dreams. In his head he was already planning the release of their new song _Innuendo_. His hands were tightly gripping the Bentleys steering reel while _Under pressure_ was blasting through the speakers. Then the radio cracked. For a brief second Crowley expected another amazing band, no one had yet heard of, to start playing. But then the voice of his lord and master pulled him back to reality.

“WHAT HAVE YOU BEEN DOING CROWLEY?”

The deep voice vibrated in Crowley’s skull. He cursed under his breath, so that his lord and master would not hear him.

“WE REGRET YOUR ABSENCE AT THE MEETING TODAY”

Crowley cursed again. He had been so busy with the plans for their new tour and the schedule for their new album that he totally forgot about the regular meetings with hell. And they would surely want to see his progress on all the bad schemes he was supposed to be working on.

“I… I am sorry, lord. I was busy working on something really important… something… big.” He stuttered.

The radio was silent for a moment.

“WE WILL WATCH YOUR ACTIONS VERY CLOSELY, CROWLEY. DO NOT DISAPPOINT US AGAIN”

The radio cracked again. Then the cheery tunes of _Under pressure_ continued to play, as if it hadn’t been interrupted by the lord of hell only seconds before.

“Shit, shit, shit!” Crowley hit the dashboard in frustration. The dark fields rolled by as he tried to calm his racing heart.

Hell could not know about this. If they were ever to find out that he had produced this music, even more, made people happy with this music, well, even a holiday on mercury would be his better option then. This had to stop. He had to escape.

And then it dawned on him what he had to do. And he hit his dashboard again, because he felt so helpless and stupid.

Freddie Mercury had to die.

“Did you really think you could put on that act forever? Even you can’t be that naive, can you??” Aziraphale asked.

“Thanks” Crowley scoffed. Aziraphale shook his head.

“So it was your idea? The whole HIV thing?”

Crowley shrugged.

“Might as well raise some awareness if I have to die.” He mumbled, while trying to sink deeper into the sofa to hide his embarrassment. 

“You know that is actually quite the nice thing to do.” Aziraphale smiled.

Crowley felt a bit better.

“Nah, I destroyed the hopes and dreams of thousands of people. They are never going to see Queen again. They will never hear more music.”

And then a bit quieter: “Might as well have turned that into my great plan for hell”

“You know, Crowley” Aziraphale said.

“That is the thing about art. Why it is so precious. Because it is momentary. Nothing will last forever. If you hadn’t died… left the band in 1991 you probably would have broken up a few years later anyway.”

Crowley made a consensual noise.

“At least this way they will always remember it in good will. I think this really is a perfect ending to your story. You made all those people very happy.”

Crowley shifted nervously under Aziraphale’s proud glare.

“Yeah fine” he hissed. “Can we please watch the damn movie now?”

Aziraphale’s smile grew even wider.

“Of course, dear.”

And then they snuggled up on the sofa and Crowley shouted at the movie several times for being inaccurate, while Aziraphale just stayed silent and watched him in content.


End file.
